


(DEMIGODS)

by loyaulte_me_lie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Apollo's really bad poetry, Banter, Basically everyone kicking ass, Crack, Monster-bashing, Multi, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-The Last Olympian, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-The Heroes of Olympus, myths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7603150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loyaulte_me_lie/pseuds/loyaulte_me_lie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Direct Effective Military Initiative Going Operational Damned Soon (DEMIGODS)/or, the one where the Avengers discover demigods exist after a bunch of hydrae go on a rampage in Manhattan. Monster-and-supervillain bashing shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Keep Calm and Use Celestial Bronze

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally got my act together and wrote something for two fandoms I love but haven't had any inspiration for. This is the result of some silly messages between my brother and I - credit to him for all the funny lines and for being an awesome beta-reader.

 “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

On the screen, Hill’s face is ghostly. “Believe me, Mr Stark, I wish I was.”

“Where did they come from?” Natasha is busy strapping weapons to every conceivable part of her anatomy as the truck speeds its swerving way through midtown Manhattan, clearing a path through the rush hour traffic with its blue and red lights blaring. As they get closer, the screaming becomes apparent, shattering through the windows and piercing everyone’s eardrums. The truck slows as it tries to dodge the swell of panicking humans, stumbling away from the horde of monsters that has – out of absolutely nowhere – appeared on the streets of the city as though it was pieced together out of odds and ends of nothing. If Steve didn’t know better, he would’ve made the educated guess that Loki was somehow behind all of this, but as far as they all know, Loki is still locked up somewhere in Asgard.

“Techies are working on it,” Hill says. “NYPD are evacuating as best they can but they’re gonna need help distracting the monsters. No-one’s gotten a read on what they actually are yet.”

“Copy that.” Steve picks up his shield as the vehicle crawls along, trying to fight a path forward through the tsunami of terrified New Yorkers. He feels a brief moment of pity for them – first the Chitauri and now this. It’s like New York is a magnet for the weird and wonderful and extra-terrestrial, attracting a landslide of them from all across the well, universe. He wonders when they’re ever going to get a break, to be able to live normally like most of the other seven billion people on the planet seem to be able to.

After another few agonising moments of growling engines and screaming and lurching towards the chaos, Steve makes an executive decision, banging on the barrier between them and the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent driving. “We’ll be faster on foot,” he snaps, and obediently, the driver brakes and opens the door, allowing them to pour out into the hissing smoke and flares of light and hysteria.

“Tony, air recon and patch us through to the NYPD. Clint, get somewhere high and start shooting, Natasha, Thor, with me.”

People have become so used to the Avengers appearing on TV – missions and press conferences and interviews – that even in their panic they clear a path towards the streets the monsters are currently destroying. When they arrive, though, Steve has to pinch himself at the sight that greets them. The monsters are green and enormous and there are at least five of them, dripping slime and spit that froths and bubbles and burns holes in the tarmac like some deadly science experiment gone hopelessly wrong. They flicker in and out of sight and each one’s nine long, tangled necks writhe and stretch, snapping their teeth at the air as they advance slowly down the street towards the Avengers and the barricade of police sirens.

“Tony, count?” Steve asks, gesturing the others around.

“Five from up here too. NYPD says there’s a hostage situation – couple of hundred trapped in Herald Square subway station.”

“Copy that – they should be relatively safe there. Any ideas on what they are?”

“Jarvis says they’re Hydrae. Thick skin, poisonous breath, acid spit and blood. Cut off one head and two more will grow back.”

“In my day, that was metaphorical,” Steve mutters to himself. “Killing them?”

“Working on it.”

“What’s the plan?” Natasha is bouncing on the balls of her feet as the hydrae get closer.

“Gas masks on, drive them back, and don’t get too close whatever you do.”

“Very specific,” Natasha yells as the air crackles with lightening from Mjolnir and they start to move forward.

“I thought improvisation was your thing,” he calls back. “When are the army going to be here?”

“Mobilising,” Hill’s voice crackles in his ear.

“Tell them to get a move on,” he tells her, watching Tony, who has in typical Tony Stark fashion, dived straight for the monster in the lead, darting in and out of the forest of heads and necks and fangs, lasers trying to sever as many heads as he can, the heat leaving blackened stumps behind. Before he disables the first monster, however, it’s caught him around the ankle of the suit, flinging him out of the sky with a deafening crack.

“Tony!” That’s Natasha, running forward to crouch over him, her knives flashing against the scales, mask peppered with little drops of acid that burrow through the plastic towards her face.

“I’m good,” Tony’s voice sounds slurred but he moves, yanking Natasha out of the way of another head that had suddenly materialised, curving around her from behind. Satisfied that they can defend themselves on their own, Steve sprints over to where Thor is determinedly bashing another hydra, a rain of sparks flying from Mjolnir as the creature bucks and twists and spits below him. Suddenly, Tony’s speaking again, somewhat panicked, “Widow’s down, we need a med team here _now_!”

“Fall back!” Steve orders just as a ball of lightening rips the sky apart, frying the monster Thor has been fighting into a pile of ash that shifts restlessly before settling into a thin desert of yellow dust that clings to Thor and Steve and the pavement and the buildings.

At the end of the street, S.H.I.E.L.D. EMTs are bending over Natasha and that’s when a girl with two long blonde plaits and eyes as hard and sharp and polished as a piece of steel appears, pulling the air aside like a curtain. She pushes a folded Yankees cap into the pocket of her hoodie and steps forward, holding a…banana? And a large metal dustbin lid?

“Get back, the situation is under control,” she snaps. Steve raises his eyebrows, glancing over at the others who look equally baffled. Is there an insane asylum somewhere around here? He can’t remember.

“Uh, kid, is the banana meant to scare us or is that the bin lid’s job?” Tony lifts up his face mask.

The girl scoffs. “Mortals. So _blind._ ”

“Excuse me?” Steve says. The banana is flickering like the hydrae now and if he looks at it out of the corner of his eye…

“You need to leave this to the professionals, girlie,” Clint has appeared from one of the buildings, slinging his bow over his back. The hydrae have regrouped and are on the advance again.

“We _are_ the professionals,” the girl drawls. There’s a whoop from down the street, and another monster suddenly explodes into a choking yellow dust cloud, revealing a lanky, dark-haired teenage boy, brandishing a pen and a flaming piece of wood. “Even though Percy doesn’t act like it.”

“Annabeth!” the boy calls, ducking to avoid a hydra head intent on severing his neck. “A bit of help here?”

The girl takes off without another word, and all the Avengers can do for a moment is stand and stare as these two _kids_ weave in a graceful dance around one of the hydrae, feinting and lunging and slashing with a banana and a pen and dustbin lid and a flaming torch, though Steve has a pretty firm inkling that those are not what they seem to be, like they’ve been doing this their whole lives.

“Are you guys coming or not?” the girl, Annabeth, calls over to them, and the team move into action, their well-oiled movements seeming rusty and robotic after watching Annabeth and Percy.

“They don’t like fire,” Percy says as he swings past Steve, hanging onto one of the heads for dear life with his flaming torch clunking against the thing’s eyes, grinning like a madman.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Steve says breathlessly, catching his shield. “Thor, more lightening?”

“Of course, Friend Steve,” Thor starts to whirl his hammer, and after that, between Thor’s lightening and the lasers and the two kids that Steve is starting to believe are slightly less insane and possibly know a lot more than they let on, the hydrae are beaten easily. That’s not even mentioning the other four kids that turn up when they’re corralling the last one, also armed with various random objects that wobble and reveal glimpses of shimmering bronze and wickedly sharp edges that look like they could cleave apart the thickest scales.

When the army finally get there, all that’s left is a street that looks as though it’s been attacked by a Saharan dust storm rather than a bunch of walking, spitting myths. Annabeth and Percy are covered in acid burns, but wave off the EMTs, wandering a little distance away and bending their heads together over a little packet of something that Percy takes out of his pocket. When they return, there’s no sign of lumpy, red, scorched skin, and the pen and the banana and the dustbin lid now bear much more of a resemblance to swords and shields. Tony, predictably, is vibrating with excitement at the idea of getting his hands on new tech, quizzing Percy with questions.

“So is your sword also implausibly heavy or is that more of a Norse fetish?” earns snickers from the rest of the team and bemused looks from the kids.

Percy hands Tony it. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, just wondering. No-one but Thor can pick up his hammer and I was wondering if that’s the same with pseudo-Greek tech.”

“How do you know that?” Annabeth is immediately on the defensive.

Tony taps his head. “Brain cells.”

“He has an AI who just looked it up,” Clint butts in, just as Tony says,

“Well it was pretty easy to guess considering you knew how to kill Greek myths and have the classic weaponry, though I’d guess there’s something enchanted in there because none of our conventional weapons worked on those things.”

“Celestial bronze,” Percy says, ambling over. Annabeth gives him a look that should by all rights have reduced him to a chalk outline on the floor, but he just grins at her and lets it roll off his shoulders. “It’s the one of the only things that can kill monsters.”

“Seaweed Brain!”

“What?”

Annabeth whacks him on the head, glaring so pointedly she could run someone through with it. “They’re mortals! They’re not supposed to know about us.”

“Considering they were bashing the monsters with us, I’m sure they’re trustworthy.” Percy’s smile is crooked. “Also, do you think mini-Zeus over there is mortal? I sure don’t.”

This conversation is getting stranger and stranger by the moment, so Steve decides just to go for the jugular and ask, “Okay, who exactly are you?”

“Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon,” Percy says, sticking out his hand. The silence is like the aftermath of a bomb, radiating outwards in a shockwave that has everyone standing and staring at the boy in front of them. “Yeah, I know, I was pretty shocked when I found out too. But you get used to it.”

“So…Poseidon’s alive?”

“They all are,” Annabeth says tightly, in a tone that suggests she’s still not entirely happy with this.

“Whose kid are you?” Clint squints at her.

“Athena.” Annabeth pulls herself up tighter than a bowstring. Percy puts his arm around her shoulders and she shoves him off. Thunder rolls across the underside of the sky, and Annabeth flinches. “Percy, we really need to stop.”

“Eh, it’ll be fine. The gods owe me one,” Percy tells her. “So what are you guys, _exactly_?”

“Random mish-mash of freaks,” Tony jumps in before the rest of them can. “Also known as the Avengers. Super-soldiers, secret agents, scientists and me.”

“Before you give away all our secrets, Mr Stark,” Hill’s voice startles them all, apart from Natasha who is back on her feet at Hill’s side, if looking rather woozy. “How about we get back to HQ for debriefing?” She glances at Percy and Annabeth. “You two had better come too.”

 

 

 


	2. Debriefings and Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, this chapter has been giving me oodles of trouble but I think I've gotten as happy with it as I'm going to be, so hope you enjoy! Thank you for all the kudos and comments - they really make me smile! Loyaulte xxx

The ride back to the HQ of the scary men-and-women-in-black is in silence thicker than the Arctic and possibly colder. Percy wonders absently whether the tip of his nose is turning blue yet, even with Annabeth’s warmth pressed up against his side, as close as she can possibly be without sitting on his lap. He’s trying to stay as poker-faced as possible for her sake, cause it’s obvious she’s nervous as Hades, but his gods-damned foot will not stop tapping. Trust ADHD to make an awkward situation even more awkward. This isn’t really something they can talk their way out of, not like the situation a couple of summers ago, though to be honest talking Luke through getting rid of Kronos was all hope and luck and desperation and nothing even resembling strategy.

The dark-haired woman with the gun at her hip has not taken her eyes off them once, nor have the two regular agents, the ones in regulation black uniforms with regulation steel-sharp expressions. The others, the ‘super-soldiers, spies, scientists and me also known as The Avengers’ are much more relaxed – well, the ones of them that are present. The dude in the red and gold flying armour whom Annabeth quickly identified as Iron Man had taken off after a conversation with Miss-I’m-In-Charge-Here that went something along the lines of:

Miss-I’m-In-Charge-Here: You will attend debriefing, Mr Stark, now get in the truck.

Iron Man: Yeah well, it’ll be entertaining telling Fury we got upstaged by a couple of kids with bananas. I'm not gonna miss that for the world.

Miss-I’m-In-Charge-Here: I’m warning you…

Iron Man: Yeah sure, whatevs. See you there. You coming, Thor?

[Iron Man shoots off and does a flip as the sky begins to crackle with lightning. Mini-Zeus follows, holding his hammer aloft. Percy’s head added the epic soundtrack.]

Mr Stars and Stripes – whom Annabeth also identified as Captain America (gods, you’re slower than a sea-slug today, Seaweed Brain. Surely you’ve covered this in school? _Yeah Annabeth, when have I ever paid attention in school?_ ) – is relaxed against the back wall, legs stretched out and spinning his shield between his hands. The archer and the redhead who spent most of the battle knocked out are having the sort of silent conversation that Annabeth and Thalia often have, the kind with raised eyebrows and smirks and a lot of creepy staring in each other’s eyes.

Just then, Annabeth’s hand sneaks into his. She curls her clammy fingers around his palm, and the truck judders to a halt. “Follow me,” Miss-I’m-In-Charge-Here orders, and even though every single neuron is screaming at him to run, to get away, to disappear with Annabeth back to Camp Half Blood and forget that they got themselves into this mess, he obeys the woman and walks into the sharp concrete and glass building that awaits them.

*

Natasha doesn’t know what to make of them. It’s obvious that they’re terrified now – it’s written in every line of their faces, pours off the tense set of their shoulders and the skittish way they hold themselves as though they could bolt at any second – but out there, well, Clint was impressed and god knows that’s not a regular occurrence.

They’re shown into one of the conference rooms Fury keeps for meetings with important people who don’t like to see the darker side of the organisation (it’s an _intelligence agency_ what are the morons expecting? Clean and spotless hands with no blood under the fingernails?) and the boy slouches into his seat. The girl is the exact opposite, a tightrope wire with folded arms and humming with nervous energy.

“Alright, alright, relax,” Fury practically growls at her as he marches into the room. “We’re not going to arrest you.”

“So you’re telling me that holding us in a locked room guarded by armed guards until we answer your questions isn’t an arrest? Because I’m pretty sure that’s an arrest.”

So he’d noticed all of that, then? Smart boy, even if he seems to have a thing about running his mouth in front of authority figures.

Fury grimaces. “If you answer our questions and we don’t deem you a threat to the general public…”

“Excuse me? We’ve saved the bloody general…”

“Percy!” Annabeth hisses. “Now is _not_ the time.” Natasha allows herself to be vaguely surprised at the level of control Annabeth seems to have; Percy seems as uncontrollable as a hurricane.

“Then we’ll let you go,” Fury finishes.

“What do you want to know?”

“Who are you?”

Percy sighs and slumps even further downwards. “We already told Captain Stars-and-Stripes over there. Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon and Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena.”

“You say that you are the offspring of the ancient Greek gods.” Fury’s slow drawl drips incredulity – Natasha can practically see the pool of it sizzling at his feet. In answer, Percy opens his clenched hands and a stream of water pours from the ceiling above Fury’s head; he swears and splutters and tries to duck out from under it but it follows him relentlessly around the room like a stray dog. Tony cackles, quickly becoming hysterical, flat out on the desk, and everyone else is battling to keep their composure; even she has to crack a smile at their Director looking more and more like a drowned rat with every second.

“I like this kid,” Tony chokes out to no-one in particular.

“Okay, okay, I get your point, turn it off.”

With a click of Percy’s fingers, the water stops, leaving Fury dripping all over the soggy carpet and a lingering smell of seaweed. Percy leans back in his chair and folds his arms. “I can also talk to horses and various assorted sea-creatures, breathe underwater, and am ninety-nine percent invulnerable. I assume you don’t want a practical demonstration of any of those.”

“Only 99%?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, like Achilles. I’m not gonna tell you my weak spot, though, no offence.”

“None taken. How, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He bathed in the River Styx.” Annabeth’s tone is full of exasperated pride and she glances around nervously as though she expects someone to pop out of thin air and smite her for telling. “In the Underworld,” she adds, at several confused looks.

“Okay, that is cool,” Tony butts in before Fury can opens his mouth. “Wonder how much of a match you’d make against Capsicle here.”

“He’s not got super-strength or speed or anything,” Annabeth snaps.

“Just thick skin,” Percy interjects, putting a hand on Annabeth’s wrist. “Calm down, Wise Girl, he’s just teasing.”

Fury mutters something along the lines of _god give me strength_ and turns to Annabeth. “Miss Chase, will you please explain the existence of these _gods_ and give me some numbers about you…”

“Demigods?” Percy supplies helpfully. “Ow!”

Annabeth, with another cagey look around, launches into something about the spark of Western Civilisation and how the gods follow that, and well, since they’re not very well-known for being able to keep it in their pants how the demigods came to be. “They can and do take human forms, but mostly they’re forces of nature…you’d disintegrate if you looked upon one of the gods in their true form. Look, I really don’t know if I should be telling you this…”

“Relax,” Percy says her. “They can hardly get rid of us, can they?”

“Why?” That’s Clint, leaning forward for the first time in this whole farcical debrief that’s gotten weirder and weirder and weirder – somehow, Natasha thinks it’s amusing that the least strange part of the morning was the Nazi insignia coming to life and terrorising Manhattan.

“It’s a long story.”

Someone is about to open their mouth with something like ‘we have time’ but Fury finally gets his act together and beats them to it. “So you’re basically telling me that as well as the existence of aliens, we now have ancient Greek gods to contend with as well?”

“We mostly keep ourselves to ourselves,” Annabeth chews on her lip. “The monsters mostly come after us rather than mortals, and if there is a threat we deal with it.”

“Forgive me for being suspicious but we don’t have any proof of that,” Fury points out.

“The ruckus around the Empire State Building a couple of summers back?” Percy folds his arms again.

“The terrorist attack?”

“Wasn’t a terrorist attack.”

“Nat and I were on the ground for that,” Clint interrupts. “It sure looked like a terrorist attack.”

“It was Kronos trying to destroy Mount Olympus if you must know,” Percy says flatly. “As I said, we dealt with it.”

“Mount Olympus is in Greece.”

“Yeah the actual mountain is Greece, Mount Olympus home of the gods…”

“Is above the Empire State Building,” Thor finishes for him.

Everyone turns to look at him and he shrugs. “I’ve visited a few times. Zeus and I are old friends.”

A vein starts throbbing in Fury’s forehead. “And _why_ have you never mentioned this, exactly?”

Thor looks genuinely confused as to why Fury’s face is creased up in anger, and from the others’ expressions around the table, Natasha is not alone in damming up the tide of laughter that’s threatening to spill from her lungs. Who knew that when they were called out this morning, it would end up like this? “You never asked.”

Fury pinches the bridge of his nose and takes several deep breaths, the way he always had to whenever she and Clint, or more recently, any of the Avengers, did something extremely reckless and looks at them all. “Are they hostile?”

“Think of it as an ant nest,” Percy says. “Don’t poke it with a big stick and they won’t get angry.”

“Yeah, don’t pull a Tesseract on us, Nick,” Tony leans onto the back legs of his chair. “I’m not flying through another goddamn portal.”

“They are of this planet and this dimension, Man of Iron,” Thor puts in, reaching out to clap his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “No portals involved.”

“Unless you’re talking about going to the Underworld but I seriously wouldn’t recommend that.”

“Well to be fair, you do keep pissing Hades off,” Annabeth says tiredly.

“How does one manage to piss a god off? I’m not counting Loki, sorry Thor.”

“When I went down there, I might have killed a lot of people who tried to stop me,” Percy’s smile shows all of his teeth, and Natasha is reminded that this is the kid that took on a hydra with only a sword. Fury fixes him with a gimlet stare. Percy shrugs. “What? They were already dead so it’s fine. Well, like 90% fine. They’ll reform. It makes a bit of a change from the boredom of Asphodel.”

Annabeth looks faintly embarrassed. Natasha wonders if she’s the only one who’s noticed how white Steve’s knuckles have gone on the edge of the table. “So you’re basically telling us there’s life after death…presided over by Hades?”

“Not really a life,” Percy says. “Asphodel sucks.”

There’s a thick, heavy silence that settles over them as everyone takes in that information, only broken when Tony stands up in a screech of chair legs against the wooden floor and disappears without a backward glance. Natasha catches Clint’s eye and he nods towards Steve who looks like he might throw up. She makes a mental note to sit down with Cap later and hash out a few things – namely _dead means dead, don’t hurt yourself more over what’s been and done._

Tony reappears a few seconds later with a bottle of whisky and slams it down on the table in front of Steve. “I know you can’t get drunk but you look like you need that.” He glances around at the various shades of people’s faces and corrects himself. “Screw that, we all need it.”

“I’m impressed you found booze in a S.H.I.E.L.D. base,” Clint puts in. “I’ve been trying for years.”

“Stark, Barton, back on track,” Fury growls. Annabeth reaches for the bottle. “Miss Chase, may I remind you that you are underage?”

“We’ve just spent the last month running around after monsters re-forming faster than we can get rid of them _and_ I’m trying to rebuild heaven from the ground up – of course Percy and I are too irresponsible to drink, thank you for clearing that up.”

Fury doesn’t say another word as Annabeth unscrews the bottle and takes a mouthful, passing it off to Percy, but Natasha can see the thoughts flickering across his face faster than she can decipher them. “How would you feel about back-up?” he says slowly, after a few minutes of the whiskey being passed around the table like a weird parody of pass-the-parcel.

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t know squat about monsters, it’s true, but if this morning’s events are going to repeat themselves, we’re going to need to. You advise us, and in return, if they are in agreement, the Avengers will back you up on problems too big to handle alone.”

“That’s…”

“In interesting offer,” Annabeth cuts Percy off. “We really need to be on our way soon – things to do…”

“Campfire songs to sing,” Percy adds.

“But we’ll consider it, talk to our director and be back in contact with you as soon as we can.”

“I’m assuming that’s the best we’re going to get?” Fury tests, and Percy nods.

“Yeah, sorry. Are we going to be able to get out of here without being shot at?”

“You are free to go.” Natasha can see the resignation on Fury’s face as the two kids disappear out of the doorway in a clatter of their swords and shields. The whole team sit in a stunned silence for a few moments, before Tony claps his hands together.

“Well, I for one need a stiff drink and some coffee – anyone care to join me?”

 


	3. We Take a Trip Back to Summer Camp (Pt.1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What it says on the tin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY for making you wait this long for this update - I am an awful human being, but this particular muse ran away and uni has been nuts, so, not much time to write! But wahay, my muse is back - thank you for all the people who commented and gave me a kick to get going on this again, and please comment with plot ideas because I have no idea where I'm going with this, and I would love to write stuff that makes you guys happy! Anyway! On with the fic! Loyaulte xxx

“There is someone here to see you, sir,” JARVIS’ voice interrupts Tony’s rock-fuelled inventing session, dialling back the music until Ozzy Osbourne’s wails are no longer rocketing off the walls.

“J, we’ve been through this,” he says, concentrating on the wiring inside the chest-piece of the latest armour.

“He says his name is Percy Jackson and that you’ve been waiting for him.”

“Fuck it, okay, I’m coming. Get the others into the lounge, would you?”

“Very good, sir.”

The music resumes as Tony wipes the oil-grease off his hands, pointing a stern finger at Dummy who’s been edging towards his work station with a suspicious mug of something in his claw. “Down, boy,” he says. Dummy makes a sad little chirrup sound and visibly wilts.

“The day you stop putting motor oil in the coffee is the day I will start drinking it,” Tony tells him as he heads for the door. “Don’t blow anything up while I’m gone.”

By the time he reaches the residential area of the tower, Percy Jackson is already firmly ensconced on the sofa with a glass of something blue and fizzing, talking animatedly to Steve about something or other involving a Titan and someone called Rachel Elizabeth Dare (“and then she hit the Lord of the Time in the eye with a blue plastic hairbrush, seriously Steve, you’re gonna love her”). Both of them look up as Tony enters. A second later, Clint drops out of an air vent and strolls over to them, brushing dust off the shoulders of his shirt. “Hi.”

“Can’t resist making an entrance, can you Barton?” Tony grouses as he heads over to the bar. “Anyone want a drink?”

“We’re good,” Steve calls after him. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Nat’s on assignment, Bruce left for his conference a couple of hours ago and God knows where Thor is.”

“You’ve only got the three of us, then, Percy, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Percy says easily, lounging back against the arm of the sofa.

“So, to what do we owe the honour?” Tony calls over. “More monsters you need help with?”

“We’ve got the monsters under control old man.”

“Ouch! You wound me.”

“Eh, it’s just a scratch. I came to tell you guys that Annabeth and I have discussed the offer with Chiron and we’re going to accept, we think.”

“Chiron?”

“Our…well, trainer, I suppose you could call him. He sent me to come and invite you guys to see our base without your super-spy colleagues.”

“You do realise Clint is technically one of our super-spy colleagues?”

“It’s okay,” Clint says. “Off-duty currently.”

“Good, I would have hated to tell the Apollo Cabin that Hawkeye couldn’t make it. You might want to bring your bow to fend them off, by the way.”

“Noted.” Clint is suppressing a grin. “When are we leaving?”

“Uh, now?” Percy sinks further into the sofa. “If that’s cool?”

“How are we getting there?”

“We should probably head outside, in a bit. When they get here.”

“Uh, uh they? Who’s they, Aquaman? Can’t we just take a jet like a normal, civilised group of people?”

Clint snorts something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, “Civilised? Us?”

“I mean, you’re welcome to try, but I don’t think you’ll be able to find the place without me, and I don’t fly, so…”

“Why?”

“Son of the god of the sea. Sky’s Zeus’s domain. Think you can join the dots.”

“Quit it with the sass, kid, I’m the only one allowed to sass people around here.”

“Tony,” Steve warns, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “If jets are out, how do you plan…oh, okay, there are flying horses…outside the window…”

“Pegasi,” Percy corrects with another grin, pulling himself up. “Should brush up on your Greek mythology, Cap. You wouldn’t happen to have any sugar cubes around here, would you?”

*

When they touch down back on solid ground, Tony is giggling like a small child. “That was epic!”

Steve rolls his eyes at Clint. “He’s going to want one now.”

“I could sure live somewhere like that tower,” Percy’s black Pegasus says, to a chorus of noise from the other three, “Can we move in, boss?”

“Sure, sure, free apartments for everyone, I’m sure we could make one of the floors a stable, Cap, remind me to tell Pepper that she can’t rent out that floor she wanted to anymore, we’re going to have an equine…”

Clint slaps his hand over Tony’s mouth to stop him speaking. Percy is giving them a funny sort of grin, again. “Welcome to Camp Half Blood.”

“Wait, your base is a _summer camp_?” Clint asks, looking down the hill at the picturesque little cabins nestled into the valley, vine-fields crawling up towards them and a painted farmhouse at the head of the woods. From this distance, it could be a regular sort of summer camp, but if Steve squints, he can make out an actual sparring arena with small shapes moving across it, and a climbing wall that looks to be on fire.

“Yeah, some people only come for the summer, cause they can make a life for themselves in the real world without attracting too much attention. Some of us are year-rounders – mostly the counsellors and some other kids too. We’ve had more since the Battle for Olympus, now the gods are actually claiming their children, but I’ll tell you more about that later. Follow me.”

Annabeth is waiting for them halfway down the hill, arms folded and tapping her foot impatiently, but she takes Percy’s hand when he holds it out to her, and the two of them lead the way towards the big blue and white farmhouse. There’s a man in a wheelchair sitting and waiting for them on the veranda – he could be anywhere between forty and sixty, with a beard and kind eyes, Steve thinks, but he’s quickly learning not to take anything about this place for granted.

“Chiron,” Percy says. “I brought the Avengers, like you asked. Well, not all of the Avengers, of course, but…”

“Shut up, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth elbows him in the ribs. “Chiron, may I present Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and Clint Barton, who are here representing SHIELD and the Avengers Initiative. Tony, Steve, Clint, this is our director of activities, Chiron – Mr D, the camp director, is not here today.”

“Deliberately,” Percy says. “Ow, Annabeth – it’s not personal, he doesn’t like mortals.”

“Thank you, Percy, Annabeth.” the man in the wheelchair, Chiron, smiles. “Welcome to Camp Half Blood – please take a seat. May I get you a drink?”

Steve and Clint sit down, and after a moment Clint reaches up to pull Tony down by the back of his t-shirt. “We don’t have to stay here for ever if we eat or drink, right? Cause that would suck – it’s a neat place and all, but you don’t look like you have any labs or anything…”

“After we have spoken, Annabeth and Percy will take you on a short tour of the camp, Mr Stark,” Chiron says pleasantly. “I believe you will find the Hephaestus’ cabin’s forge to your liking.”

“Oooh, a forge – what sort of armour do you make? Because if we’re fighting monsters as well as monstrous mortals and robots and things, I’m gonna need to upgrade the armour quite significantly.”

“I’m sure the campers will be able to answer your questions, Mr Stark. First things first, I would like to stress that what you see here today must remain secret. The gods value their privacy, and so do we – the outside world seems to be getting used to superheroes, but still, we would all rather not put that to the test and remain just as we have been.”

“I can understand that,” Steve says. “And I can’t speak for Director Fury, but we will carry that point across loud and clear.”

“Thank you.”

“Do the gods have accountability?” Clint asks. “Like, the last time a god was let loose in the USA, he destroyed half of the island of Manhattan.”

“The Asgardians are not gods,” Chiron corrects. “Some of the cultures which were set apart from Western civilisation might have conceived them as such, but they are not the same as those which reside on Mount Olympus.”

“Nevertheless, my question stands. It’s what Director Fury will want to know.”

“Mr Barton…”

“Agent.”

“Agent Barton, I apologise. They are meddling less, I believe – sometimes they take human form and walk about among you, but they have learned from their past mistakes, something young Percy and Annabeth here have helped with. I hope we shall have no cause for grief between us and your SHIELD, and I can promise you that the gods will never try to do what Loki did to New York – the Earth is their home, just as much as it is yours. Does that answer your question?”

“Convinces me, not sure it will be enough for Fury and the Council, but guess we’ll see.”

“Good. Well, we were thinking of having some sort of dialogue between the two organisations for problems we need to collaborate on. Since they already know you, Percy and Annabeth have kindly volunteered to serve as messengers.”

“Mostly Percy,” Annabeth corrects, fiddling with a thin length of cord around her neck. “I’m still overseeing Olympus, Chiron.”

“Percy will be chief go-between, and Annabeth will help where she can.”

“No offence,” Steve says, “but aren’t the two of you a little young?”

Annabeth looks like she would very much like to take offence, but Percy jumps in before she can. “We’re two of the most experienced campers here. Annabeth has been here since she was seven, and me since I was twelve. We’ve lead the defence of Mount Olympus together, and completed multiple quests, and in any case, most adult demigods try to head back into the mortal world for college and stuff, so we’re about as senior as it gets if you want someone full-time.”

“Fair enough. Sounds like you’ve thought this through pretty well,” Steve has to concede. “I’m happy with that. Tony, you got any questions?”

“Most of my questions involve getting this celestial bronze stuff under a microscope and picking your brains about all the other tech you use, like what’s that green fire?”

“Greek fire, and sure, let’s go find some people who can actually answer those questions,” Percy says. “Is there anything else you wanted to add, Chiron?”

“No, I don’t believe so. Enjoy your tour of camp.”


End file.
